


Basics

by Unbridgeable



Category: The Sandlot (1993)
Genre: Baseball, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, High School, Multi, Sports, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:59:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unbridgeable/pseuds/Unbridgeable
Summary: Ty Smalls is probably the most pessimistic optimist you'll ever meet.Got a flat tire? Yeah, it'll be fixed, but it'll take goddamn ages.New to school? Don't worry, you'll start making friends once everyone's done picking on you.New to a country? You might be bored to death and totally alienated, but at least you're still alive, right?After her father's tragic death, Ty is pulled across the globe to live with her American mother, her half-brother, and their step-father. She doesn't want to go - hell, she'd rather live with the nuns at the city convent - but she doesn't have a choice.But when she finally begins to feel settled, she's uprooted once more, and moved again, finally settling in the San Fernando Valley.With her own troubles to deal with, will Ty be able to juggle making new friends, reforging family bonds, and starting her life all over again?





	1. Preface

**i.**  
_"A positive attitude may not solve all of your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort"_  
\- Herm Albright 

********

**ii.**  
_"We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."_  
\- Charles Bukowski 

**iii.**  
_"Well behaved women rarely make history."_  
\- Eleanor Roosevelt 

**iv.**  
_"This may be a sad chapter but you are not a sad story."_  
\- ig: happypages


	2. Summer

"Ty! Ty c'mon, wake up!" A small, tinny voice called through the fog. Tylah Smalls groaned, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes, reluctantly opening them to the early Californian summer sun.

"We're here already?" She asked the younger boy strapped into the seat beside her - her half-brother Scotty.

He nodded, his gelled hair not moving even the slightest bit. Ty sighed; their mother always made sure his hair was perfect, even when he attempted to brush her off. Luckily she never had the opportunity to get her primping and preening hands on her daughter.

Shoving the the car door open, she stood, stretching out her arms and swinging her legs, listening to her stiff joints and muscles pop after being cooped up in the stuffy vehicle for hours. Scotty jumped out after her, following her gaze to their new home, a one storey, pink house.

_Oh joy._

Having been the one who hadn't wanted to move in the very first place, Ty was now determined to find any reason to dislike this new 'home' as much as possible.

"Tylah!" A voice called from the car. Grumbling under her breath, she turned her back on the monstrosity, peering through the glare and into the darker interior of the family's pale green Ford, where her step-father, Bill, sat with hands firmly on the wheel. "The U-Haul will be here in a few minutes! Can you help your brother unload it please?" Ty wrinkled her nose. She didn't like Bill very much, especially seeing as he was her mother's third husband, even after she swore she would never get married again - he seemed to be a bit of a womaniser in her opinion.

"Where're you goin'?" Ty asked, shading her eyes and resisting the urge to respond with something significantly ruder. Bill gestured down the street.

"I'm meeting your Mom at the store." He explained. "She went to have a look around town, and she wants some help buying some new furniture." She nodded reluctantly.

"Alright." She called, waving once as he drove off down the street.

Scotty had already made it inside, picking his room at the back of the house. Ty's was at the opposite end of the hallway, at the front of a house, with a window that looked out onto the street. She was rather happy with it. The window's view of the road was partially obscured by a tree trunk, and though the view was nothing particularly spectacular, there was a painted white window seat nestled beneath it. That, she decided, would be her reading nook. She spent another moment deciding where her bed and bookcase would go, before standing back in the doorway and sighing heavily. At least she had a place to retreat to when the shit hit the fan - and she knew that it would eventually.

Hearing a car horn and Scotty's bawling shouts for her to hurry up, Ty wandered out to the front, watching as the delivery truck followed the same path Bill had as it drove away. Her younger brother had already unlocked the trailer and was beginning to unload it, stacking boxes on the nature strip.

"Hey kiddo, let me give you a hand." She told him, squeezing into the trailer and pulling out two boxes, one stacked atop the other. Scotty sent her a grateful smile.

"Thanks." He said, toothy, white grin gleaming.

They unloaded the trailer for the best part of an hour, and despite her originally sour mood, Scotty had helped cheer her up a bit, cracking chemistry jokes and making maths puns as they worked. After locking up the trailer, and stacking the second-to-last box in the front entryway of the house, Ty sighed resignedly. She supposed that she would have to get used to life here, for a little while at least. Then she would do whatever possible in order to get home.

Running a hand through her hair, she was about to call Scotty in, when she noticed a tall, dark-haired boy walking up the street. He had a rather rotund looking kid alongside him, and they appeared to be deep in a jovial conversation.

Deciding that it might be beneficial to get an idea of who lived nearby, she settled into the shade of the porch, leaning against the cooling cement of a structural support pillar. After a moment, the tubby kid peeled off, walking towards a house down the road, waving to the tall boy as he disappeared inside. Said dark-haired boy continued closer to the end of the street (and Ty), stopping to turn into the front yard of the house directly across the road.

Turning her gaze momentarily to her brother, she did a double-take, before pinching the bridge of her nose and flushing in second-hand embarrassment. Scotty was staring at him, and though she knew that her brother had very little social skills and was likely to embarrass himself - honestly? She couldn't blame him. They were in a strange new town full of strange new people, and he had never had many friends. Nor had she for that matter, excluding her teammates from back home. It was a fresh start for the both of them. _'A wonderful opportunity to make some lifelong friends'_ , as their mother liked to put it.

 _Yeah, wonderful opportunity my butt._ She shook her head.

The boy seemed to sense Scotty's gaze and turned to look over at the house. By then Ty was right behind her little brother, attempting to help him lift a particularly heavy box, but, much to her chagrin, he simply let go and waved to the boy, making her stumble into the dry grass by the roadside. The boy looked a bit concerned, but he smiled and nodded to Scotty, then went inside.

Ty huffed, rolling her eyes and brushing at the prickly blades of grass that were poking through the back of her pants and seriously starting to hurt her bum.

"The hell d'you do that for?" She grouched, pulling herself to her feet. Scotty shrugged.

"Mom did say to try and make some friends." He mumbled, picking up the other side of the box. Ty rolled her eyes again.

"Yeah, well, she also said to help me unload. And preferably avoid injuring family members in the process of making said friends." She wiped her sweaty palms across her knees. "C'mon, it's the last box, and then we can unpack our rooms." She prodded, shuffling sideways across the lawn under the weight of the box.

Scotty followed her in, helping to place the box down, before disappearing down the hallway, murmuring something about using the bathroom as he left. She sighed for what felt like the bazillionth time that afternoon, and trundled into the kitchen, dragging a stool from the corner up to the bench and plopping down onto it.

She was tired - oh-so tired. But at this point in time, that didn't matter. What mattered was that she needed a plan. And everyone knows that the best plans take time.

-(-)-(-)-(-)-(-)-

The following morning, Ty rose with the sun, which was a very rare occurrence indeed, comparable to that of a total solar eclipse - it was the kind of thing that only happened once in a generation. As it turned out, she had barely slept that night at all, and when she finally had an excuse to be out of bed, she took it without hesitation. However, sequestered as she was within the sheets, her task was more easier said than done.

After disentangling herself from the grasps of her doona, she carefully avoided the belongings she had strewn all over the floor, picking her way through the minefield until she reached the door and was able to pad down the hall unobstructed. The kitchen was silent and empty, for which she was grateful. She didn't feel like answering her mother's prying questions or being on the receiving end of one of Bill's judgemental stares this early in the morning. It wasn't that it usually bothered her, however this morning, her generally happy-go-fuck-yourself attitude really wasn't quite at its finest, and she had a niggling notion that it had nothing to do with the lack of sleep.

Snatching the carton of OJ from the fridge, she retreated back into her bedroom to drain its contents and prepare herself for the day.

Or at least, she had thought she was going to prepare herself. Half an hour later, she was still sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor, juice in hand, pyjama-clad limbs tucked in at her sides as she pored over the contents of one of her moving boxes. Three posters, six books and four random t-shirts had been shoved in haphazardly together, along with two cricket balls and one set of bails, which she fiddled with absently, rolling them through the fingers of her left hand.

She wasn't one hundred percent sure what she was trying to accomplish, but she knew that she needed to find a temporary home for her belongings. She couldn't be bothered to completely unpack just yet - there was still hope that this wasn't permanent.

A knock on the door shoved her out of her thoughts, and almost sent the OJ flying across the room.

"Enter if you dare." She called out, stuffing the messy pile back into its box unceremoniously. The door cracked open, and her mother's head entered the room, followed quickly by the rest of her body.

Mrs Smalls wasn't a tall woman, but she wasn't short either, and she had a pretty face and a nice smile that often attracted the attention of many middle-aged men, much to the annoyance of Ty and her brother. After all, that pretty face was the reason her children had to take the name Smalls in the first place.

Her mother frowned when she saw the juice carton.

"Tylah, what have I told you about hoarding the orange juice?" She began. Ty frowned deeply, reaching up to place the carton on her bedside table before turning back to face the door.

"Did you seriously just come in here to tell me off?" She questioned, tucking her feet more firmly beneath her. Her mother opened her mouth to reply, but thought better of it, and instead chose to pick her way past a pile of clothing and join Ty on the floor.

"Sorry sweetheart." She told her, a sincere expression painting her face. Ty huffed, but shrugged anyway.

"S'okay." Her frown loosened, and she looked at Mrs Smalls more carefully. "Are you okay, Mum?"

"I'm fine." She replied, and she said it so firmly that Ty had no other choice but the believe her. She liked that about her mother. When she made decisions, even very big ones (such as moving your family to a totally new town), she was always completely and utterly certain about her choices. "But I want you to know that this will be good for you. You need this move just as much as the rest of us." Her mother's eyes were almost pleading. Ty stayed silent, her face blank and impassive.

Mrs Smalls tried a different tack.

"Think about all the new friends you'll make!" She gushed, putting a hand on her daughter's knee. "And the boys! I hear Cali boys are very cute." She winked, and Ty groaned.

"Mum, that's gross." She hissed, straightening her legs and pushing herself into a standing position. "Boys are not appealing creatures." Mrs Smalls frowned slightly, pouting, but Ty cut her off before she could say anything more on the subject. "I'm going to get changed." She said.

Mrs Smalls nodded slowly, her face drawn and slightly pinched, and retreated out of the room without another word.

Ty huffed, running a hand through her shoulder-length hair. She knew her mother had only the best intentions, but she also knew that it was unlikely she'd ever understand. She'd never had the experience of permanently moving countries, like Ty had, or growing up knowing that her father wasn't the love of her mother's life. She'd never lain awake at night wondering about the life of the little brother she'd never met, or whether or not she'd like her mother's newest husband. She wasn't trying to make her life seem tragic, because it wasn't - some kids had it far worse than she did. However, our experiences are what make us who we are, and Mrs Smalls had no idea about the majority of what had occurred during Ty's childhood, and by extension, a very vague idea of who her daughter actually was.

After four or five minutes of rummaging through cardboard boxes and two duffel bags, she managed to find a suitable white t-shirt, and a pair of her dad's baggy old jeans, which she wriggled into and buckled up with a small leather belt. She tossed her hair up beneath a nondescript baseball cap, and snatched up the book she had been reading before bed last night - Farenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury - before wandering out of the house, hoping to find a place where she could be alone with her thoughts and her story.

As it just so happened, a few houses down on the corner of the street, stood a large and sturdy sycamore tree, whose broad, leafy branches provided a ring of dappled green protection from the red-hot sun. Grinning despite herself, Ty tucked her book under her chin and grabbed a low-hanging branch, digging her runners into the tree-trunk and swinging herself upwards, until she found a suitable branch a few feet further up.

Settling in, she pushed her back up against the dappled bark, and was delighted to discover that her vantage point gave her an unprecedented view of the street below, all the way from her house to the little drugstore a few blocks to her left. This would do just fine, she decided, before losing herself in a tale of a time when there are no stories, and no imagination.


	3. Let the chaos begin

Ty was roused from her semi-stupor some half an hour later, when the hurried slapping of feet on pavement rushed by beneath her tree. Her first thought was a sort of surprise at her sudden awareness of her surroundings, for she'd never been one who was easily interrupted whilst reading. However, it came to her attention that other than the occasional bird call and the distant drone of traffic on the highway, the street was virtually silent, so the sudden noise really shouldn't have shocked her. Even still, she almost fell out of her tree when a boy dashed past.

 _Huh,_ she thought absently, quickly marking her place in her book. She shouldn't have thought of it as her tree. _She hadn't even been there for an hour._

Glancing down, she was surprised further at the fact that it was Scotty racing down the street, feet hitting the hot pavement at what could be called lightning speed - well, in comparison with his normal pace anyway. Frowning to herself, she tucked her book between a fork in the branches, intending to return for it later, and she slid down the trunk to follow her little brother at a more leisurely pace.

She wasn't concerned about losing sight of him. The street was fairly straight, and he wasn't exactly the fastest runner in the world, so if need be, she could catch up with him. She followed him for a while, before he took a sharp left and disappeared through a row of overgrown bushes. 

Ty stopped, looking left and right, up and down the street. Why would he turn here? There was nothing there but a few tangled shrubs, some sporting little white flowers, all clumped together in a nondescript community garden bed. She waited a minute, internally debating the pros and cons of following her little brother.

Cons - He'd likely be very annoyed with her. They'd had arguments in the past surrounding her instinct to protect him, and though Ty agreed that he needed his independence, she also worried for his safety. He probably wouldn't speak to her for a few hours, maybe a day.

Pros - Tylah Jorden Smalls was insufferably curious, and following Scotty through the bushes and down the rabbit hole, so-to-speak, would certainly satiate some of her queries about his strange behaviour this morning.

In the end, the pros outweighed the cons.

Ducking through the branches, Ty pushed her way through the underbrush and into a little dirt laneway, coming face-to-face with a corrugated iron fence. To her right, she could see Main Street, running perpendicular to the lane, which extended a little way to her left. Behind her, a hedge made of the tangled garden bed she'd squeezed through lined the other wall. She brushed her hands off on her jeans and turned away from the street, convinced that if Scotty had intended to go up to the shopping strip, he would have stayed on the sidewalk.

And she was correct. A short walk later, the lane opened up to a dusty baseball diamond, complete with a rickety dugout and a rusty net behind home base. Scotty stood on the edge of what she thought must have been the outfield, although she couldn't be sure, because in that vicinity a few knee-high weeds had begun to push up from the patchy grass and blur the lines of what was part of the field and what wasn't. He clutched his plastic mitt to his chest, and he watched a group of teens and pre-teens play a game almost apprehensively, as if he were afraid to ask to join in.

Ty understood why he was afraid. Scotty's hand-eye coordination skills amounted to almost zero. If he were to join, he'd probably end up being pegged in the face by a stray ball.

Leaning on the fence, against all of her instincts and her urges to shout to him and ask him to come home, she decided to avoid interfering. It would humiliate him, and he would forever be labelled as the kid who's older sister constantly hovered over his shoulder. She couldn't do that to him, not with the fresh start he'd been offered. He would hate her. So she stood and watched, a guarding presence, while simultaneously doing some snooping of her own.

Eight boys stood in various positions around the diamond, waiting for the pitcher to start play. Ty recognised the chubby, red-haired kid from down the street standing at second base, slapping his mitt repeatedly and muttering something to the pitcher himself - an African American boy, who simply brushed him off with a scoff, winding up his throwing arm and pitching a steady ball to the batter.

The steady 'thwack!' the ball made as it connected with the bat resounded across the pitch, but the pitcher called out before the batter could make a run to first base.

"My bad!" He hollered, ignoring the groans six of the other boys. "I wanna pitch you a homer, man!" He informed the batter, collecting the ball and trudging back to the mound.

Ty shifted her attention to the recipient of his compliment, who sighed, shaking his head slightly and tapping the inside of his feet with his bat. He had broad shoulders and an athletic build, which she found reconcilable with the easy way he held the bat. His skin was bronze - Hispanic heritage she suspected - and his dark hair was tousled in a way that seemed too natural to be intentional. It took her almost two full minutes to realise that he was the boy who lived across the street.

And by then, she was too late.

The pitcher had wound up a second time, letting loose a slightly-wonky, yet near-perfect curveball. It sailed through the air, and Ty watched - as if in slow motion - as it connected with the bat and flew towards the outfield. She barely had time to scream a warning at Scotty before it struck him right in the temple, sending him slumping to the ground.

And then time sped up again and she caught up with the rest of the world, racing over to her younger brother and ignoring the surprised stares she received, as well as the laughter some of them spared at his expense.

She really hated how her predictions came true sometimes.

"Scotty!" She breathed, dropping to her knees and helping him to sit up. "Are you ok?" She brushed hair from his eyes and collected his Bass fishing cap from where it lay in the dirt, dusting it off and placing it back atop his head. He frowned slightly, the corners of his lips tugged downwards.

"I'm fine." He grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and snatching the ball up, preparing to throw it back. Ty felt her eyes widen in surprise.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" She murmured, hazarding a glance at the group behind them, who had all quieted down and were watching to see Scotty's next move. He shot a weak glare in her direction, before proceeding to fling the ball toward the pitcher.

It landed all of six feet away from him.

The boys all erupted in a chorus of laughter, some so much so that they ended up in the dirt clutching at their stomachs. Ty felt her lips draw back in a snarl, and she scooped the ball up and flung it back to home base, where it would have hit the batter in the face, had he not dodged immediately. He shot a look of surprise at her.

"SHUT UP!" She yelled, silencing the whole group, bar the batter - the boy who lived across the street - for he hadn't been laughing in the first place. "JUST SHUT UP!"

Seven of them gawked at her in surprise, and the batter stared in what she could only describe as a strange sort of interest. After a moment, a murmur went up through the group, instigated by the chubby kid, who pointed at the hair hanging out from beneath her hat and the pink spare laces she'd had to wind through her sneakers a few weeks ago.

"She... she's a girl!" He called, as if the idea that someone of the female persuasion could throw a ball was simply unthinkable.

"You know what? Yeah! I am!" She called back, placing a hand on Scotty's elbow. "C'mon, let's get out of here." She murmured. He shook his head, snatching his arm away.

"No." He muttered. Ty's heart swelled, and she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Scotty." She pleaded softly. If he was ridiculed again, she wouldn't be able to live with herself.

He sighed and relented, turning and trudging back in the direction of the laneway. Ty followed, shooting a scowl at the chubby boy, who was still snorting, and flipping him off before she exited the sandlot completely.

All the way down the lane, she could feel eyes burning into her back.


	4. Pins and Needles

The following morning, Ty stayed in bed as late as she could, mulling over the events of the previous day.

When they'd finally come home, Mrs Smalls had immediately ushered them into the kitchen, where she'd served dinner and forced them to participate in small talk that really grated on Ty's nerves. She especially disliked conversing with Bill, who, on-the-whole, tended to disregard her. This was fine - until her mother pushed them into conversation. If she hadn't before, Ty now knew the true meaning of the term 'awkward'.

When the plates were cleared and the dishes done, Ty had excused herself to her room, stopping by the bathroom to brush her teeth on the way. It was only eight o'clock, but she was going to scream if she'd had to spend anymore time with her so-called 'family'.

There was nothing else to be said.

She'd been rinsing the toothpaste from her mouth when she'd heard the hushed voice of her mother calling to Scotty from his bedroom door, and the accompanying whir of one of his contraptions shutting down so he could respond.

"Sweetheart, have you made any friends yet?" Mrs Smalls had asked. Ty could almost see his look of resigned sadness.

"No." He replied. Ty's heart clenched painfully, and she had moved to the doorway of the bathroom, pausing just inside it so she could hear more easily.

"Has Ty?" Their mother prodded. She felt the uncertainty in her little brother's voice as he responded.

"I don't think so." He'd wavered a little bit at the end, and Ty understood why. He was afraid that she'd make friends and move on without him - that she'd leave him behind. Abandonment was an old friend of hers, so she knew how heavy his chest must have felt, and how his stomach must have clenched at the thought of being alone.

She had wanted to round the corner and gather him up in her arms, and reassure him that no matter what, wherever they were, whoever they were with, she would never, ever leave him. But she had stayed still, sensing that if she interrupted this moment, nothing good would come of it.

"Why not, honey?" Ty could almost see Mrs Smalls sit on the edge of Scotty's bed, and she'd mentally cursed her for asking such a stupid, painful question.

"Because we're still 'new'." He told her, but Ty knew what he didn't say. They were outcasts - Ty because she was too boyish, and Scotty because he wasn't boyish enough. They were too weird for the other kids - that day had been testament enough.

Their mother said something else, but she couldn't hear what it was, because the older woman had lowered her voice to a near-whisper. She could hear, however, the aching reluctance in Scotty's voice as he had replied that he would try to make some friends tomorrow.

And then he'd asked about Bill - "I-I mean Dad." Scotty's voice was unsteady and uncomfortable. "D'you think he can teach me how to play catch?"

It's funny how one little sentence can do so much damage. Ty's vision had blurred, and she swiped at her cheeks, wiping away the hot, unexpected tears hurriedly. Scotty wanted to learn how to play sport.

And he didn't want her help.

On some level, she understood that it was something boys did with their fathers, and that Bill was as close to a father as the two of them had left - even if he was a good for nothing prat who never paid either of them any attention. But it didn't dull the hurt that stabbed at her stomach, accompanying the notion that she was as useless to her little brother as a pair of scissors were to a rock.

She had padded quickly and quietly to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her and flicking off the lights.

Her stomach still hurt, more than twelve hours later. It ached with the knowledge that she couldn't help him. He wouldn't let her. She had spent out her anger a few hours ago, and now she was just sore.

With a sigh, Ty swung her legs over the edge of her bed, slapping her feet to the floorboards. She was determined to brush this off. Scotty couldn't know how she felt. It would only cause more damage. So she stood.

She was stronger than this. She was a soldier, and she would march on.

Ty headed for the bathroom, immediately stripping and stepping into the shower, letting the warm water wash over her, as if it could wipe away her emotions. Steam had clouded over the mirror by the time she got out, but it didn't really matter. All she needed to do was dress and throw her hair up into a ponytail, and she was ready for the day - not that it really seemed like she was going to go anywhere. The sky was grey and heavy, threatening a summer storm like none she'd seen since she'd moved to the States. She was suddenly glad she had thought to retrieve her book from her tree on their way home yesterday.

The rain had begun by ten-thirty, not heavy, but not light either, and it fell in straight, silver sheets, thoroughly drenching the dirt below until it became dark mud. Ty curled up in her windowseat, rescued book in hand, and stuffed her nose into it, ignoring the occasional flash of distant lightning and the rumbling growl of far-off thunder. She was pulled into her alternate world for nearly an hour, before Scotty came bounding into her room, telling her that the weatherman on the radio said the rain would be letting up soon.

She glanced up, arching an eyebrow at the still grey, pouring sky, then returned her gaze to her brother.

"Right, and I'm going to walk on the moon." She scoffed, pulling her novel back up to her face. However, before she could re-immerse herself, the book was suddenly torn from her hands and wrenched from her sight. "HEY!" She cried out, lurching after Scotty in annoyance. She missed him by mere centimetres, because he had turned and fled the room, laughter left in his wake. Huffing, Ty took off after him, bare feet smacking the floorboards as she chased him down the hallway, dodging their confused mother as she entered from the lounge room to see what all the commotion was about.

Scotty took to the corners of the passage with surprising ease, considering his lack of athletic capability, and Ty almost struggled to catch up with him, until she managed to corner him in the kitchen, pouncing and locking her arms around his skinny frame, lifting him off of his feet.

"HEY! No fair!" He wailed, flailing his legs as Ty lifted him higher. She shrugged.

"That's life, little brother." Pushing a hand into the crook of his arm, she snatched back her book and placed Scotty back on the ground, turning on her heel and making her way back to her bedroom.

"I'm boorrreed!" He called after her, trailing behind her and tapping occasionally at her shoulder. Ty shouldered open her door and slipped back into her window seat, glancing at him as he followed her and clambered up onto the cushions under the window pane. He stared back, almost daring her to look away. She felt her eyebrows knit together and her shoulders slump in defeat, knowing that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore him.

"Fine." She droned, placing her book on her bedside table. "What do you want to do?"

She couldn't help but smile when her little brother's eyes lit up like light bulbs.

-(-)-(-)-(-)-(-)-

"Why did I agree to this?!" Ty whined, dragging her feet along the sidewalk, Scotty tugging at her arm and urging her to hurry up. The rain had let up almost half an hour ago, and the sun shone bright and hot in the deep blue sky, raising the humidity levels of the day to near tropical.

"Because you're an amazingly awesome sister and you love me?" He supplied, pulling her around the corner and onto Main Street. It was oddly quiet for the middle of the day, however, Ty suspected that it was to do with the fact that it was a Sunday, and she had a sneaking suspicion that many of the families in this Valley were religious.

If she had anything to do with it, Ty would never step foot in a church ever again.

"It's too hot to be out here." She complained, gesturing to the shade-less footpath leading up to the shopping strip. "Why couldn't we have gone to the pool or something?"

"The pool's closed, dummy." He informed her. "And here, we can get candy!" His toothy grin was almost enough to convince her to continue forward without complaint - but not quite.

"You and lollies never end well, little man." She frowned, snatching her arm from his grip and rubbing her wrist where his small fingers had dug just a little too tightly into her skin. Scotty shrugged, and pulled a handful of quarters from his pocket.

"Mom gave me these to spend this week. She said that food brings people together, and maybe I'll make some friends that way." Ty felt her eyebrows knit together, and she found herself wondering why on Earth her mother would say something like that - she was basically telling Scotty that he could buy friends using sweets. But before she could open her mouth in reply, he continued to speak. "I think it's kinda dumb to do that, so I thought we could share instead!"

Ty remained silent, still mulling over what he'd just told her. Scotty caught sight of her frown and stepped a little closer to her, linking an arm through hers as they continued towards what must have been the local drugstore.

"She's a bit worried about you, y'know, that's why she gave me the quarters." He murmured. "She said to me: 'Ty's strong, but she hides her feelings down too deep, and she'll never make lasting friends like that'." Ty jerked to the side, and looked down at Scotty, stung.

"She really said that?" She asked, feeling the ache in her stomach that had all but disappeared since that morning return with a sickly, pins-and-needles-like sensation. Her brother nodded solemnly, his round, pale face pinched.

"I'm sorry, Ty." He said. She softened, wrapping an arm around Scotty's shoulders, despite the heat, and giving him a squeeze.

"It's not your fault." She scolded playfully. "You don't need to apologise. Besides," She took a deep breath to shake off her hurt. "It's summer. Let's find something fun to do."


	5. Sugar Rush

Ty was fairly sure that they had traumatised the owner of the drugstore.

She and Scotty had torn through the little shop like hurricanes, spending all the meagre money they had on - you guessed it - candy. By the time they'd made it up to the counter, they had amassed four packets of raspberry drops, three boxes of Razzles, two packets of potato chips, a stash of Atomic Fireballs and Bazooka gum, and two bottles of Coke that they'd only decided to grab because they each came with a free Tootsie roll.

The poor cashier - a portly woman in her mid-forties - looked just about ready to pass out.

They left with a paper bag each, popping the lids off of their icy-cold soft drinks and wandering down the street aimlessly. Ty had no idea where they were headed, but she didn't really care. She'd found a sort of middle ground with Scotty, and despite the fact that he was still keeping things from her, she felt like maybe - just maybe - she could let it go.

"Where do you see yourself in seven years?" He asked after a little while, completely out of the blue. Ty was somewhat taken aback.

"When I'm twenty-two? Gosh, Scotts, I haven't even really thought about it." She replied, listening to their feet slapping the pavement and enjoying the cool sensation of the freezing Coke in her left hand. Scotty shrugged, taking a left down a side street.

"Yeah, but hypothetically, y'know? Where d'you think you'll be?" He pressed. Ty thought for a moment, and reached into her bag to pop a raspberry drop in her mouth.

"Well," She began. "I'd wike to head back to Austwawia at some shtage. I haven't sheen my gwandma shince Dad died." Scotty laughed at her attempt to speak around the lolly, quickly giving a reverent nod at the mention of her father, and then waited for her to swallow before answering.

"... Do you think I could come with you?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant. This question surprised Ty slightly more than his original inquiry about her future. She felt her eyebrows knit together.

"You'll still be in college, little man." She responded. Scotty itched at the back of his neck, but didn't say anything else. They continued on in silence for a few blocks.

Ty was silent because she was confused. Her little brother had rarely shown much interest in her life before her dad died - beyond the point of asking polite questions about her family members, anyway. She had never really expected him to suddenly change his mind.

"Why the sudden interest, kiddo?" She questioned a few minutes later. They'd circled the block around Main Street, and had unanimously decided to head in the other direction, where the swimming pool was supposed to be.

Scotty shrugged for what had to be the fifth or sixth time that morning.

"I dunno." He muttered. "Just curious." His face had gone a little sour, and his lower lip jutted out slightly, kind of like a toddler's. Ty couldn't help but chuckle, and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Of course you can come. I'll even wait for you to finish college, if you'd like."

Scotty beamed up at her, his smile brighter than the Californian summer sun.

"Really?"

Ty smiled.

"Yeah, really."

-(-)-(-)-(-)-

Ty felt extremely sick by the time she got home. She was way past the little buzz that a meal of straight sugar gives you, and was on to the stage of regretting every decision she had ever made. Well, except for deciding to go out with Scotty that morning.

After spending a good five minutes brushing her teeth, she wandered into her bedroom to take stock. They'd been living in the Valley for almost a week, and Ty had yet to even _look_ at the majority of the boxes that held her small amount of belongings, let alone _open_ them.

Maybe it was time to fix that?

She seized the box closest to her, discovering that it was full of clothes, and dumped its contents on her bed, beginning her methodical process of sorting her hanging items from those that could just be stuck in a drawer. She may have not wanted to move in the first place, but something about her conversation that day with Scotty had changed how she felt about the little town, and so she reluctantly let go of her misgivings. There wasn't any point in hanging onto them anymore - they were just another thing causing pain.

Empty boxes began piling up near the door as Ty worked hard into the afternoon, hair tied out of her face and sleeves rolled right up. She was being so incredibly productive, that she was almost surprised at herself. She'd managed to set up her dad's record player on her desk, and _That'll be the Day_ by Buddy Holly and The Crickets poured out of the speakers, providing her with a little jig in her step. Her books now filled her bookshelf, as her clothes did her wardrobe, and she was halfway through sorting out where to put her various items of sporting equipment.

Her cricket bat and her baseball bat sat nicely against her bookshelf, but she was still stumped - pardon the pun - about where to put her set of wickets, her netball, and her small collection of cricket, tennis and baseballs.

As engrossed as she was within her dilemma, she almost didn't hear Scotty's cry of distress from outside.

_Almost._

Ty immediately dropped the basket of assorted balls, and sprinted from her bedroom, skidding into the kitchen just in time to see Bill slapping a cold steak over Scotty's eye.

"Sorry kid." He was saying. "Keep that on for a while. It'll be black, but it won't swell.

"What happened?!" She demanded, rushing over to kneel in front of her little brother, glaring at the older man. Bill shifted uncomfortably, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"I just didn't keep my eye on the ball, Ty." Scotty replied, drawing her gaze back to him, and placing a reassuring hand on her arm. She sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, before straightening up and looking back to their stepfather.

"What happened, Bill?" She repeated, far more slowly. If it had been any other situation, she would have enjoyed how squeamish he looked, but she was focused on her brother, and as far as she was concerned, it was his fault that he was hurt.

"Your brother needs to learn to watch out for that curve."

Ty's blood began to boil. _Who did he think he was? The freaking Queen?_ Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides, but as she opened her mouth to unleash her anger, her mother entered the room, and she snapped her lips closed. She ran a hand across the top of Scotty's head and placed a quick kiss to his forehead, before storming out, throwing a dirty look at her mother as she went.

She couldn't believe it. It was only the beginning of summer, and already, Scotty had been fairly seriously injured.

Ty hated to think about what the rest of the break would be like.


	6. Bullies

The following morning, Ty sat glumly beside her little brother on the front porch. Scotty held onto his ruined plastic mitt, turning it over and glaring at it miserably, fingering his purpling eye with his free hand.

"What d'you wanna do today, kiddo?" She asked, trying to find a way to pull him out of his funk. At the back of her mind, a little voice niggled at her, saying that this wouldn't have happened had she been the one teaching him how to catch, but she pushed it away. It was useless in the face of past events.

Scotty just shrugged, eliciting a sigh from Ty in response. For lack of anything better to do, she wound her hair up into her baseball cap, before reaching down to re-tie her runners - which now had a brand new pair of black laces, thankfully - for the second time.

"There must be something?" She pressed, but she knew it was unlikely she'd receive a reply. Turning her gaze to the street, she did her best to search for some kind of inspiration - anything to slap a smile onto her brother's face.

In a way, her hopes were answered, although possibly not exactly how she would have wished.

The boy who lived across the street - the batter from the baseball diamond - emerged from his doorway, baseball bat in hand, mitt tucked under his arm. A loose, unbuttoned baseball tee fluttered around his torso in the breeze, and an LA Dodgers cap sat snugly over his dark hair. Outwardly, he appeared much like any of the other teenage boys who lived in the Valley - lean, sun-kissed, and fairly good-looking.

Ty felt her train of thought freeze in disbelief. She was shocked at herself for applying such a positive connotation to a person whom, for all intents and purposes, had allowed her little brother to be picked on by his buddies. He wasn't deserving of such a label.

Much to Ty's disappointment, as soon as he saw the Smalls children, he smiled awkwardly and made his way across the street, stopping only a few feet away.

"Hey," He said, looking at Ty and Scotty and nodding at each in turn. "I'm Benny Rodriguez, I live across the road." Ty nodded, eyes narrowed. Scotty didn't respond, so she begrudgingly introduced the both of them.

"This is my little brother Scotty." She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm Tylah Smalls, but call me anything other than Ty, and I will personally ensure that you can never have children." She paused for a moment, enjoying Benny's sudden look of alarm. "We just moved here."

"I saw." He replied, after a beat of silence. He rubbed the back of his neck, an uncomfortable expression still seated deeply in his features. "Where're you from Ty? That's not an American accent."

Ty looked up at him from her spot on the front porch step, scrunching up her nose. Usually after she delivered a line like that, people wouldn't want to have anything to do with her. And yet, for some reason unbeknownst to humankind, he had decided to continue their awkward conversation.

"Australia, if you must know." She informed him, eyebrows raised and voice devoid of emotion. "I moved in with Scotty and my Mum about three years ago." Benny seemed to ignore how purposefully vague she was being, and bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

"Well, I'm gonna go play some ball with my friends, but we need some extra players." He began, slowly shifting his gaze between Ty and her brother, as though if he didn't keep an eye on her, she might just follow through with her earlier threat. "Do you guys wanna come?" Ty opened her mouth in haste, fully prepared to decline - but Scotty beat her to it.

"No thanks." He mumbled, despondent. Benny looked surprised.

"Why not? Don't you like baseball?" He questioned, the ridiculously incredulous look still plastered on his face.

"Umm... yeah... but..." Scotty stuttered, looking to Ty frantically for a way out. Her heart went out to him - the poor kid couldn't even look at a ball without it hurting him in some way - but she was suddenly struck with a feeling that unless Scotty learned how to deal with other people their age on his own, he wouldn't survive this town - even if Benny was a few years older. After all, she was sure that he wouldn't want to be hanging around with his big sister all the time when school started up again.

"But what?" Benny queried. It appeared that he thought that the notion of someone not wanting to play baseball was unimaginable.

"M-my glove," Scotty managed to get out. "It's busted, see?" He held up his ruined mitt. "Sorry, I can't go - thanks though." He finished sharply, pointing his face towards the ground. Benny pulled a spare mitt out of his back pocket and tossed it to him.

"It's ok; I've got an extra one." He beamed. Scotty looked rather uncomfortable, but he took it anyway. Ty just wrinkled her nose, staring at the tall boy in confusion - how did he even get the glove in there in the first place?

Benny looked over to her and raised an eyebrow. "You coming too?" She arched an eyebrow in return.

"If Scotty's going, I'm going." She replied firmly. She wasn't about to let him march into something like this on his own. With a quick look at her brother, she turned on her heel and dashed into the house, snatching up her own mitt and heading back out the front door, where the two boys stood waiting.

Nothing needed to be said. Benny nodded once, and the Smalls children followed him down the street.

Ty let Scotty continue on ahead, lost in his own little world as he examined the mitt Benny had loaned him. She still felt quite on edge about the whole situation, and was overall reluctant to let her brother go in the first place, but she knew that he wouldn't learn from an experience that he never had. It was character building.

With a sigh, she turned her gaze to Benny, who walked a few steps ahead of her, and quickly lengthened her stride to catch up - because Tylah Smalls had a threat to deliver.

He glanced at her, blinking in acknowledgement, but his eyes turned confused when he saw the warning look in hers.

"I don't trust bullies, Rodriguez." She hissed. "Just remember that." He nodded slowly, a hint of familiar alarm flashing across his face - but it was gone so quickly that she couldn't be sure that she hadn't imagined it. His body language told her he'd received her message, and they continued up the road, past Vincent's drugstore and around to the back.

The seven other boys from the sandlot were sitting on upturned rubbish bins, watching a rather rotund, red-haired boy shove a large, equally red lolly into his mouth, twirling it about like a cigar.

"I'm da Bweat Bammimo." He huffed through a mouthful of his treat, and try as she might to identify the substance, Ty found that she couldn't - it looked almost like an oversized candy cane. The six other boys watched him, frowning, as if there were only marbles where his brain was supposed to be.

"What?" A short boy asked. Tubby rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, seemingly frustrated.

"I'm vuh Breat Bambimo." He repeated, in a slightly clearer tone. The other boys still looked completely baffled, and Ty only just managed to resist scoffing aloud. As if they couldn't understand what he was saying - it was almost as clear as day! Were they deaf or something?

"What?" Another repeated. The boy took the lolly out of his mouth, scowling at the small congregation.

"I'm the Great Bambino!" He shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Oh." The rest chorused in shared recognition.

To say that the next few moments became rather tense would be a slight understatement.

"Who's that?" Scotty asked, before Ty could slap a hand over his mouth. The seven boys immediately grew silent, and turned to look at the newly arrived trio, eyes wide, jaws hanging open.

"W-what'd he say?" Tubby asked, bug-eyed. Ty covered her face with her hands, and shook her head as Scotty looked to her, confusion painted all over his face.

"What, were you born in a barn man?" A tall boy asked.

"Yeah-Yeah!" Said the shorter boy standing next to him. "What planet are you from?"

Ty's hands curled into fists by her sides, knuckles tightening so much that she could feel her fingernails bite into her palms. She listened in disbelief as the group continued to tease Scotty; they had only been there a moment, and already they were being attacked.

The seven boys proceeded to list all of Babe Ruth's nicknames, as if piling the information onto Scotty would somehow make him seem less out of place.

"The Sultan of Swat?" A short boy wearing glasses pressed.

"The Titan of Terror?"

"The Colossus of Clout?" One younger looking boy said.

"The Colossus of Clout." A similar looking boy repeated.

"The King of Crash, man." Benny offered, almost sympathetically. If she hadn't known any better, she might have thought that he was trying to help. However all of this only served to confuse her little brother, though he hid that fact well, and a look of recognition that Ty instantly knew was fake dawned in his eyes.

"Oh! right! The Great Bambino! I though you said the Great..." He searched desperately for an excuse. "...Bambi." He shrugged sheepishly. She had to hold back a laugh at the look that appeared on Tubby's face.

"That wimpy deer?" He asked incredulously. Scotty rubbed his shoulder nervously.

"Haha, yeah, I guess. Sorry."

She sighed, uncurling her fists, grateful for Scotty's save. After a few beats of silence, Benny began the introductions.

"That's Timmy and Tommy 'Repeat' Timmons." The two smallest boys spat at the ground as their names were called, almost surprising Ty.  
"Mike 'Squints' Palledorous"  
Spit.  
"Allen McLennan - we call him Yeah-Yeah"  
Spit.  
"Bertram Grover Weeks"  
Spit.  
"Kenny DeNunez"  
Spit.  
"And Hamilton Porter - also known as Ham."   
Spit.  
Scotty offered a small wave, but Ty made no move to respond.

"Guys," This time Benny addressed the ragtag group of boys. "This is Ty and Scott Smalls, they're gonna play ball with us, 'cause they make nine plus an extra player." As he introduced them, she noticed that they didn't seem to recognise her at all, as if she hadn't shown up at their little sandlot only the other day and almost knocked out their batter.

Emboldened, she spat defiantly into the dust, moving to stand by her little brother and shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. If the local boys could feel the heat of her challenging stare, they didn't budge. Perhaps they were more unobservant than she had originally believed.

"So, we gonna play ball?" Benny asked, breaking the quiet. There was a chorus of uncertain "yeah"s, and they began to walk, with Ty and Scotty close behind. Using what appeared to be a fair amount of energy, Ham caught up to Benny and pointed his finger back at the Smalls kids none too discreetly.

"Man, why'd you bring 'em Benny?" He whinged. "It looks like Ty can peg a ball, but why the little kid?" Ty ignored his little jab at Scotty, staring straight ahead, a determined sweep in her stride. As long as they didn't degrade him beyond emotional repair, she would allow them to say what they wanted. They were just words.

"Because there's eight of us, they make ten. That's a whole team plus an extra player!" Came Benny's reply. The optimism in his voice didn't appear to be forced, and she wondered if he really did want the two of them to join their game.

"Yeah yeah!" Yeah-Yeah exclaimed, cutting in. "My sisters would too, but I didn't bring them!" Scotty flinched, almost like he'd been punched. Ty barely managed not to fume audibly.

"Listen, with ten we got a whole team, Yeah-Yeah! Plus an extra player! Don't you get it man?" Benny replied, repeating himself, she thought, perhaps in the hopes of getting through to his friends. Ham shook his head.

"No. With Elswenger we had a whole team!" He hissed. "And Elswenger could catch! And throw!" 

And they had begun to talk about Scotty again. Ty didn't have an issue with them mouthing-off about her, because she knew that she could dish it up to them later in return. But the longer they talked, the more she could see their insults working on her little brother, and she had to grit her teeth to stop herself from going right up there and punching Ham straight in the nose. God knew he could have done with a bit of a slap around.

"C'mon Benny man, he ain't game! You saw the way he threw." And apparently so could Kenny.

"Yeah!" Tommy protested. Timmy took up the cause in haste.

"You already fill up all the empty positions, since Elswenger moved to Arizona." He reasoned.

"Right," Benny exclaimed. "And now I get to rotate eight positions instead of seven - plus the bench! I need the practice guys!"

"You don't need the practice! You're the best on the team!" One of the boys replied. Ty couldn't see who it was because Benny was standing in the way, but it sounded like Ham, and she actually found herself agreeing with him. From what little she had seen the other day, Benny did seem to be the best player on their team.

"C'mon Benny man, the kid is an L-seven weenie!" Squints complained. Her blood began to boil dangerously, but before she could make a move to relieve Squints' torso of his limbs, she felt Scotty's hand gripping her arm. He shook his head in an attempt to placate her - either that or an attempt to convince her that they weren't worth pummelling into a pile of mushy gore on the dusty pavement.

"Yeah yeah! Oscar Mayer even!" Yeah-Yeah joined in. "Foot long! Dodger dog! A weenie!" Some of the boys laughed derisively, but Benny glanced back at Ty, with what appeared to be concern filling his open eyes. She just stared at him, blankly. It was enough to show him that she had heard everything, and that she intended to place full blame on him and his friends. He visibly sighed and turned back to the other boys.

"What're you laughin' at Yeah-Yeah? You run like a duck!" He yelled. Everyone fell quiet, and looked to Yeah-Yeah for his response

"Kay, kay, but I'm - I'm -" Protested Yeah-Yeah in a somewhat stumbling manner.

"Part of the game, right?" Benny supplied. Yeah-Yeah nodded, a single 'yeah' escaping his lips. "Now how come they don't get to be?" Benny rallied. Bertram groaned, and answered;

"Ty, maybe - "

"But the kid's a geek, man." Someone else said. A chorus of other totally redundant reasons came from the rest of the group. By now, Ty was totally past it, and she could feel her ears burning as she boiled with a silent determination.

"Man, base up you blockheads!" Benny told them, before falling behind to speak with Ty and Scotty.

"Sorry," He said when they were just out of earshot of the other boys. "They just - well, I'm pretty sure you can see their opinion." Ty nodded briskly.

"It's fine." She replied, almost growling. "Just give me a chance to dish it to them on the diamond and then we'll see who can talk." Benny looked at her oddly, and she prepared herself - not for the first time - to launch into a rant about how girls were perfectly good at sports as well; but he didn't say anything. He just turned around and continued to walk.

Scotty tugged on her arm, effectively slowing her down.

"Ty, maybe we should just leave." He murmured, gesturing back the way they had come. She shook her head, scuffing the toe of her runners aggressively into the gravel footpath.

"Not a chance. We'll show them who's boss, 'kay?" She replied, beginning once again to trail after Benny and the Sandlot boys.

"You mean you'll show them who's boss." Scotty grumbled, falling into step beside her. Ty's stomach immediately felt heavy, and she turned her gaze to him, trying to look at him as honestly and openly as she could whilst they walked.

"Little brother, I promise we'll teach you to play baseball before the summer's over, alright?" She assured him, placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder. If he was surprised that she knew about his endgame goal, he didn't show it, and his scowl remained rooted in his features.

"Fine." Was all he said.


	7. 'Dish it'

The little sandlot was just as dusty and decrepit as Ty remembered. Tucked away between houses as it was, it was the perfect place to prove herself to the company they'd suddenly been thrown in with - and hopefully embarrass them a little bit in the process.

The ragtag group of eight boys spread out through the infield, chatting amongst one another as they reached the positions that they normally played in. Ty watched as they oriented themselves, trading idle banter back and forth as they prepared to test herself and Scotty. Their relationship with each other was simple and enviable - she couldn't remember ever having friends who seemed so at ease around her. It almost made her jealous.

DeNunez - apparently their preferred pitcher - sauntered over to the pitcher's mound, scuffing his feet in the dirt and pulling a baseball from his pocket. He eyed the Smalls children almost suspiciously - although the majority of the heat of his glare was directed at Scotty, a fact which, had she not already made up her mind, would have settled her determination. Ty was going to thrash these guys out of the ballpark.

Benny hung back, waiting until everyone had readied themselves before turning to Scotty and Ty, both of whom lingered near the entrance to the sandlot. He directed his gaze at Ty, holding it.

"If you want to 'dish it to them', this is your chance." He told her, gesturing to the home plate with his baseball bat. Ty turned to her little brother, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay here a sec. This'll be over soon."

Scotty nodded, albeit reluctantly, and trudged over to the rickety little dugout, plopping down into a plastic lawn chair. Ty followed Benny to the plate, walking alongside him for a few strides.

"You sure you want to do this?" He said after a moment, slowing down as they neared Ham, who was almost completely decked out in his catcher kit. Ty stopped abruptly, turning to face him.

"Would I be here if I didn't?" She responded, hands on hips. Benny took the hint, throwing up his hands in surrender and handing her the bat. He left her to find her footing, instead making his way over to stand behind Ham.

Ty could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of her t-shirt as she turned to face DeNunez. She readied the bat, meeting the younger boy's gaze and feeling a small smirk twist her lips as his eyebrows furrowed in what could have been either contemplation or concentration. She was going to shock them, that was for sure.

Then DeNunez rolled his shoulders, winding up his pitching arm, flinging it forward, and letting the ball go and -

CRACK! Ty felt the shudder pulse up her arms as the baseball connected with the bat, sending it flying towards the back fence, which it hit with a muffled thud.

There was a moment of silence, as everyone stood and watched in a small amount of surprise, before Benny broke the spell and began shouting:

"Run, Ty! Run!"

So run she did. First base flew by under her feet with a plastic thunk, and as she approached second, she was vaguely aware of Bertram reaching the back fence and calling out to Timmy, sending the ball spiralling towards him.

She pushed forwards, narrowly taking second base before Timmy, and then sprinted towards third. She hadn't run this hard for so long, and she'd almost forgotten what it felt like - to have your lungs burning and the wind in your face and pulling up through your hair and -

\- and as soon as she reached third base, her hat fell to the ground. A silence fell over the sandlot, but she took no notice, charging forwards until her foot slapped against home plate. After skidding to a stop, she bent over her knees, puffing hard, then glanced up at Benny with a triumphant grin, ignoring Ham's astonished expression as she did so.

Benny grinned back and her, holding her gaze while Scotty stood from his perch in the dugout and began to clap, whooping loudly.

After a few moments, his cheering petered out, prompting DeNunez to stutter from the pitcher's mound:

"She... she's a girl?"

A round of echoing murmurs came from the remainder of the group as Ty straightened, breaking away from Benny's gaze and running a hand through her shoulder-length hair.

"And?" She replied, crossing her arms.

"And.. and girls can't play sports!" Timmy squeaked, seemingly the first to regain his senses. Ham quickly followed suit, marching up beside her and scrutinising her through his keeper's mask.

"Wait a second! Aren't you the girl who nearly knocked Benny out the other day?" He stabbed a finger at her accusingly. "You almost pegged him in the head with the baseball!"

Ty could feel the other boys bristling behind her, but when she glanced at Benny, he was still smiling - white and wide and brilliant. Taking a breath, she squared her shoulders, turning her gaze back down to Ham.

"Yes. Yes I did." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she held up a hand. "Hold on! Not done yet. It was an accident, and I was angry. I'm sorry." Ham's face screwed up like a crumpled napkin, but he didn't say anything, because Benny strode over, putting a hand on the round boy's shoulder.

"It's ok, Ham. I've had worse things happen."

Slowly, the other six boys made their way over, forming a loose circle around them. Scotty remained near the dugout, hugging his arms to his chest and watching on cautiously.

Ty was glad he stayed back. Despite the fact that Benny appeared to be the leader of this little group of misfits, and the fact that he appeared to be on their side, she understood the duality of human nature. It wouldn't be the first time someone she'd thought she'd had an understanding with had turned on her. If things went south quickly, Scotty would be at a safe distance, and have no trouble getting away. She could handle eight little boys easily enough.

"How did you do that?" Squints murmured, seemingly suspicious. Ty suppressed a laugh - it was like he thought she'd used witchcraft or something. Instead, she cleared her throat, offering him a small smile.

"I played a lot of sport back home. Mostly cricket and a little bit of netball, but I did play baseball for school." She explained.

"But you're a girl." Squints emphasised. "Girls don't like sports." Ty chuckled, taking in the bewildered expressions of the other boys around her.

"Well, this one does."

They were all silent for several moments, until Benny stepped forward again, clasping his hands together.

"So! What do we think? Can Ty and Scotty join the team?"

No one spoke a word. The only response was from Yeah-Yeah, who gave a resounding shake of his head, eyes boring into Benny's.

"It ain't right, Benny." He muttered. Benny's eyebrows drew together, drawing a thick, dark line across his forehead.

"C'mon man. I thought you were better than that." Came his quiet reply. Yeah-Yeah shrugged, glancing at the remainder of the group, who nodded their solidarity.

"There's nothin' better or worse about it. It just is."

Ty had heard enough. She could see it in their faces - the desperation with which Benny was trying to win his teammates over was outweighed by their resoluteness.

"Guys come on - "

"Benny, it's ok." Ty cut him off, dusting her hands off on her jeans and retrieving her hat from the dirt. "We'll just leave." She beckoned to Scotty, who shuffled to her side, head down and hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Bending, she picked up the baseball bat from where she'd dropped it, and glanced up at Benny, holding it out to him. His expression was pinched as he took it from her, his fingertips grazing her own. He seemed to know better than to try to protest.

"Thanks for trying." She murmured. At that, she put an arm around Scotty's shoulder and steered him towards the exit. Benny's eyes were burning a hole in the back of her t-shirt again, she was sure, but she didn't stop to look. Instead, she held her head high and kept walking.

It was only as they were leaving the sandlot that the final strains of the group's conversation reached her ears.

"She... she's pretty good, y'know."

"Shut up, Squints."

"What if the Tigers found her?"

"Phillips wouldn't let a girl on his team."

"Wouldn't he?" The last voice was Benny's.

Ty pretended not to hear anything. Damn them and their goddamned prejudices. They could all rot in hell for all she cared.

Her priority right now was Scotty. He was facing a summer spent alone with his big sister. And that would most certainly not win him popularity points when it came time to finally start school.


	8. On Making Friends

Scotty didn't come out of his room that night. Ty sat across the hall in her own room, door open and book in her lap, watching for signs of him finally emerging.

There were none.

Benny had walked up the street alone about an hour ago, as the sun had begun setting. Ham was nowhere to be seen.

She'd watched him from her window - his slumped shoulders and fisted hands told her his mood was almost as sour as hers - until he'd noticed her, one foot on the sidewalk, one in his front yard. She didn't drop his gaze, but she didn't react either, not even when he lifted his arm to wave. When she made no move to wave back, Benny's hand fell, and something about his expression darkened. He quickly turned his back and disappeared into his house, shutting the door carefully behind him.

He didn't look back once.

 

 

She didn't sleep well that night. In total, she counted more waking hours than those asleep, and when she finally did manage to get some shut eye, all she did was dream of home.

Ty had lived in a sleepy little beach town on the south coast of Australia, called Sorrento. For nine months of the year, it was quiet, with a population of around 500, but in the summer-time, that number swelled to almost 2000. Tourists would come from all over the state to spread out on their sandy beaches and soak up the unfiltered sunshine.

She remembered one such summer in particular. It was the beginning of December, 1956, and school had just let out for the year. Nine year-old Tylah was trundling down Main Street, one hand in her father's, the other wrapped around a rapidly-melting ice-cream cone. She had vanilla smeared across her chin, drying sticky in the stinking hot Friday afternoon.

Half of Melbourne had already turned out in their fancy cars, with their fancy clothes and weird, clipped tone of voice, clogging the roads and crowding the shops. Tylah had never liked this time of year - there were too many people, and not enough quiet.

Twenty four year-old Mrs Wishart, their next door neighbour, had come screaming up the road, crying hysterically. The front of her dress was stained red, and her hands were dripping with a scarlet liquid that little Tylah was hesitant to identify as blood. A middle-aged tourist rammed into her as she stepped out of a shop, sending the young woman crashing to the pavement. Instead of offering a hand to help her to her feet, the tourist turned up her nose, harrumphing something about "small town riff-raff" and stalking away.

Mrs Wishart didn't get up. She'd held her shaking red hands in front of her face, her breathing slowly getting faster and faster until she began to hyperventilate. Tylah's father had immediately rushed to her side, pulling her out of the sun and urging her to calm down.

It had taken some time. Mrs Wishart's wide-eyed and white-knuckled panic was quite a contrast to her father's steady, sun-browned calm. But she eventually was coherent enough to stutter a few sentences.

"It - it - it took Davey." She'd shuddered, staring down at the blood on her clothes, then back up at Tylah's father. "From - from the pier."

Her father went still.

"What took him, Jenny? What took David?" He murmured quietly. But Mrs Wishart's eyes had already glazed over, the dulling fog of shock stealing her mind.

"He's gone."

 

 

Ty woke the next morning drenched in sweat. Bolting upright, her racing heart slowed as she took in her surroundings, and gradually recognised where she was. With a loud groan, she slumped forwards, running her hands over her face and up through her hair.

She hadn't thought about the shark attack that took twenty six year-old Davey Wishart in years. Not since before her father died. She sure as hell didn't know why it was resurfacing now. Their new house wasn't near the beach, nor had she seen or heard of anything ocean-related of late. It just didn't make sense.

Swinging herself out of bed, she padded down the hallway and to the bathroom, locking herself in and turning the shower on full blast.

When she emerged half an hour later, the house was still quiet. It was almost half past eight, which should have meant that her mother was in the kitchen, eating her breakfast and reading a magazine, whilst Scotty fiddled with a contraption in his bedroom and Bill shut himself away in his study. But when she reached the kitchen, it was deserted. Bill's office was empty, and Scotty's bedroom door was still tightly shut.

Her stomach pinched as she reached for the doorknob, poised to rouse her little brother out of his funk, but at the last second, she thought better of it, withdrawing to her bedroom and haphazardly throwing on some clothes, before heading out to the carport to collect her bike.

Main Street was quiet too. Aside from the postman - whom she passed twice - and a few young mothers pushing strollers, there didn't seem to be many people about. It was like the whole town was determined to show her that yesterday in its entirety had been an incredibly bad idea, and that she should have turned down Benny's offer more forcefully once he had made it.

Eventually she reached the end of the little strip of shops decorating the central part of the San Fernando Valley, and decided to take a left turn. Driving into town from LA, they had passed the school - a tiny little plot, with the elementary, middle and high schools all built on the same block of land - and so she headed towards where she thought that had been, pedalling harder to get away from the quiet behind her.

After several minutes of quiet riding, with only the sounds of the morning birds and occasional hum of traffic on the nearby highway to accompany her, shouts began to reach her ears. Slowing, she stopped at a crossroads, head cocked and straining to hear which direction they were coming from.

As it turned out, across the street from the school was the Valley's very own proper baseball diamond. It was littered with boys approximately her own age, decked out in pristine red and white baseball jerseys. They appeared to be running through a fielding drill, with a single boy hitting the baseball out as far as he could, then sprinting for as many bases as possible whilst the rest of the team worked to bring it back in.

A few other teenagers sat in the bleachers, some cheering on the boys practicing, others simply huddled together and chatting amongst themselves. Dropping her bike next to a tree, Ty made her way over, climbing up into the back row of seats, as far away from anyone else as she could get.

Scanning the field, she found no faces that she recognised - though, given the brief amount of time she'd been a California resident, she wasn't surprised. So, thankful for a distraction, away from the judgement of those who knew her, she zoned out, watching the boys run through another few drills before who appeared to be the captain - the boy who had been batting when she'd arrived - called them in and dismissed them.

One by one they filed off the field, passing in front of the bleachers as they left. Some stopped to greet friends sitting in the stands, smiling and joking as they discussed their practice session. Eventually, the small crowd had largely dissipated, leaving her alone on the bleachers. The only other person nearby was the team captain, who was packing equipment into bins and checking that they were locked away properly.

He was leaving when he caught sight of her, twisting an elastic band she'd found in her pocket around her fingers. He stopped a few steps below her, staring up from under his cap.

"I don't know you." He stated simply. Ty looked up from her hands, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not surprised, considering I don't know you." She replied.

A small smirk twisted the corner of the boy's lips up.

"I'm Andrew." He closed the distance between them in a few short strides up the metal bleachers, holding out a hand for her to shake. "And you are?"

Ty considered him for a moment, before shaking his hand firmly.

"Ty." It came out perhaps a little shorter than was considered friendly, but that didn't seem to phase Andrew. He rocked back on his heels, propping one of his legs up on a seat and leaning on it with his elbows.

"Don't think I've ever met a girl called 'Ty' before." His expression was more teasing than judgemental. She shrugged, wrinkling her nose.

"It's a nickname."

"Well, do I get to know your full name then?"

Ty bit the inside of her cheek. On the one hand, she didn't feel particularly up for meeting new people and making new friends - not after what had happened yesterday. On the other, this boy was making it so damned easy, it would have been stupid of her not to at least give it a shot.

"Tylah." She added "Smalls" as if on an afterthought.

Andrew nodded appreciatively, letting a low whistle of air out through his teeth.

"Still never met a girl called Tylah. Not that it doesn't suit you or nothin'." He shot her a smile. "Do you want to know the rest of my name?"

"Unless it's something completely ridiculous, I don't think it would make much difference to me." She responded in a monotone, making him laugh. "Though I suspect I don't really get much of a choice, do I?"

Andrew shook his head.

"Nope!" With a grin, he stood up straight, offering a little bow. "Andrew Phillips, at your service."


End file.
